His pants were drenched in Spring Time Fresh, Tide, from his knees to the top button of his jeans.“Oh, my God. I’m so, so sorry.” I cried.“It�...�s fine,” he said, laughing. “At least we can wash them here, right?”He stood up, and began to step out of the soggy material.“Aww shit. Went straight through to my boxers too.”I quickly grabbed a towel from the machine, and tossed it to him.“Here, you can wrap this around your waist until we get back to my place. How’s your shirt?”“The hem is a little. I widen my legs to get a better stance and hit the bookcase. It taps the wall. I hear my neighbor slam shut a kitchen door.I am rocking forward and back as I stroke my cunt.My music is playing slowly and rythmically. I let go of the floor to unbutton my jeans. I place my hand on my cotton panties where my pelvis rounds up above my clit. I hold and massage it as if it were my small breast,my finger occasionally running over my clit. I can feel my chubby labia lips through my panties. I trace. More

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